


Self Defense

by Kazimir



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Attempted Murder, Developing Relationship, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fear, Fluff, Harassment, Healing, I Don't Even Know, Nursing, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Stabbing, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-27 08:16:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13876860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kazimir/pseuds/Kazimir
Summary: While being stalked down an alleyway by a dangerous man, you collect the little courage you have and defend yourself, stabbing him 4 times.Problem is, Victor kind of liked that.





	1. That's What Happens When You Follow Someone Down An Alley

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to have "love at first stab" in the tags but Ao3 doesn't appreciate my humour and creativity. Whatever.

You quickened your pace down the alley as you focused on the heavy steps behind you splashing through the shallow puddles and getting closer. It was at this point that you regretted taking the shortcut back home this late, but the decision was made on impulse after a long day of work, and regretting the choice you made wouldn't protect you from whoever was following you now. After all the media you had consumed in your life; tv shows, movies, books, grisly news reports, horror stories, a mugging or assault was something you had prepared for mentally many times over, always with you easily overpowering or outmaneuvering your attacker in typical Hollywood fashion. Maybe you'd even bringing him into police, making a name for yourself as Gotham's resident vigalante, when your daydreaming really went wild. Unfortunately though, as you already knew, daydreams don't often come true, considering the fact that now you were really being followed at night, you were horrified to the point of shaking, your pulse quickening with each step behind you. You were too afraid to run, too afraid to look behind you, too afraid to even pull out your phone, given that the man was close enough to grab you before you could have even unlocked it. Your fingers were freezing from the late night chill in the air, and from the blood that had stopped running to them minutes ago. For some reason, your panicked mind fixated on this small discomfort, unable to fully focus on the realness of the danger you were in- or just not wanting to, and you slowly put your hands in your pockets, only for your right hand to be greeted by cold metal. You scoffed at yourself. There isn't much point in carrying a knife if you forget about it once things actually go down.

You opened it slowly, still in your pocket, not wanting to give the small advantage you now had away.

_Inhale_

Something inside you told you that you had to make the first move, and that you'd only have one chance.

_Exhale_

You gripped the handle so tight that your hand ached, and you abruptly stopped.

_Inhale_

You turned on your heel and swung the knife in the direction of your attacker faster than you thought possible of yourself, no doubt because of the adrenaline pumping through you. Warm liquid dripped down your hand as you looked up to see a pale face, lacking any hair, even brows or lashes, and intense, shocked, dark eyes staring down at you. You felt your spine tingle and your whole body shudder as you pulled the knife out of the mans lower abdomen, still not feeling safe. A large hand wrapped around your throat as you swung a second time, plunging deep into his shoulder and releasing your neck quickly, prompting a surprised grunt from your attacker. You impulsively pulled the knife back and swung again immediately after, hitting him in the stomach once again, and bringing him to the ground, with you falling with him. His eyes still staring up at yours, you pulled the knife up again, almost as terrified of yourself as the you were of the man at this point. You sunk it into his other shoulder as he lay under you. You paused, trembling, wide-eyed, and bloody as the face a foot or two under yours smiled up at you. Your hands remained grasping the handle of your knife tightly, but you couldn't bring yourself to stab him again, having been snapped out of your animalistic defensive daze.

"Too scared to finish the job?" He mocked quietly, evidently weak from blood loss. You raised your weapon over the chest of the man that you straddled, but you couldn't bring it down into him again. The moment was gone.

"Good." He said. You felt something hard touch your abdomen, and even in the darkness you could see the gun he had pointed at your stomach.

"Then you get to stitch me up."


	2. Four Stab Wounds And You Still Won't Leave Me Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sewing up and feeding the man himself

You stared down at the man who was bleeding through your bedding. He had taken off his jacket and shirt at this point, and was incredibly pale due to the blood he lost all over the street, yourself as you held him up walking home, and everything that you owned. He looked up at you, exasperated, pointing to his wounds.

"Anytime." He smirked expectantly as you searched for your sewing kit and household medical supplies. Finally, you plunked them down on the bedside table and set off to work disinfecting and stitching up the damage that you had inflicted. The man stared  _very_ intently at you, the weight of his wide-eyed gaze making you feel awkward despite, or because of, the fact that you had almost just stabbed him to death. The air in the room felt heavy around you, and the undivided attention made the blood rush to your face. You looked everywhere but his eyes as you did your work, connecting the fact that he barely flinched at his deep wounds with the obviously self-inflicted scars covering his arms.

"So... What are those?" You gestured to the cuts awkwardly. He waited a long minute, and you looked up at him. He smirked again as you met his eyes.

"Victims." He said casually, continuing to stare into your eyes.

"Cool." You looked down, not having a good response in mind for his answer. Silence reigned once more until you gave in once again, hoping for an easier response. "What's your name?" Knowing he wouldn't likely answer without eye contact, you glanced up.

"Victor Zsasz." He seemed to wish he could get a better response out of you, bit frankly you found yourself too overwhelmed by the entire situation you were in to be anything but awkwardly casual. It felt as though too much had happened in the last hour for you to be able to process anything at all. You nodded and introduced yourself to him, finishing up the last stitches and wiping the remaining blood off of his chest and your hands. You left him in your room as you went to put your things away and mourn your bedding, making food after and trying to forget about the man in your room. You prepared a little extra, and considered bringing him some and apologizing for stabbing him, but the short interaction before had only made you want to avoid him more, and you hoped that he had just fallen asleep and would leave in the morning, unlikely as that probably was. As your luck would have it, a few short minutes later you heard the familiar creak of your door being pushed open, and Victor Zsasz sat across from you expectantly.

"Four stab wounds and you still can't leave me alone." You frowned at him. He shot a fake look of disappointment back at you before your food caught his eyes.

"Smells good." He said, very obviously asking for a share of it.

"Yeah." You replied, making eye contact and holding it in silence. His lips pouted and his eyes narrowed before you finally cracked a smile, pushing the plate to the middle of the table and handing him a fork. He smiled at this and, unfortunately for you, ate almost all of it before you had a chance to have much at all, stopping only to raid your fridge for a drink. After all your dinner and milk was plundered he sat back in his chair happily, and you got the feeling he didn't intend to go home anytime soon. Great.


End file.
